Edwin Dell looked at them, blushed, turned his head away.
“I think so, Aunt Charity,” he murmured.
She cut slices of bread from the home-made loaf and swaddled each slice in tissue paper.
“You’ll be careful what victuals you eat in New York, Edwin,” she said; it was half question, half command.
“Oh, yes, Aunt Charity,” promised the young man. “I’m always most particular about my victuals.”
“Sit up straight, Edwin. And be sure to allow plenty of time to get to the station. The New York train leaves at three-twenty-four. What is it Emerson says about punctuality?”
“Punctuality,” Edwin quoted, “is one of the legs of the table of Success.” He knew his Emerson.
“And Edwin——”
“Yes, Aunt Charity?”
“Don’t forget what I said about women.”